Exactly the same scent as six years ago, when I landed on the island not knowing for whom or for how long. Just inhaling that dusty, rain-and-flower-mixed smell – it feels like smelling a lover. But you look around and don’t see him. Then, as now, I knew I had to fly. Then, as now, when someone asks me why I’m here, I come up with hundreds of false answers, because then, as now, I don’t have an answer. To search for a miracle. To wait for a miracle. To meet a person. To wait for a person.

I don’t know why this only happens to me in Asia, but here, it seems, all the dust of life is wiped away, and you start to see and feel so clearly and purely. People here are good. Of course, with spices, but good, or at least they try their best to be good to you. Willingly or not, you become like them. A little better. Purer. To fit in. It’s nice to observe myself from the side, how strongly and beautifully I’ve grown, and how things that should surprise no longer do. These lands, once, I called home. And now, like leaving childhood homes – it’s good to return. I try to remind myself why I once spread my wings and left. I don’t fully remember. But I know that after a while I will remember more clearly.

I used to love people with backpacks. Yes, those who, like camels, stumble into the cheapest hostel and, removing that heavy burden, give you a wide smile. It’s as if I see myself in those people. These “camels” don’t need much, they don’t complain about anything. They sit on verandas until morning, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. And no one suggests going to sleep. Sometimes – it’s not necessary. “Don’t go anywhere,” the hostess waves a finger when we want to go outside at night. Elephants walk around at night, it’s not safe – she advises us. And it sounds scary, but at the same time, it sounds like a fairy tale. I missed them already, I missed myself the most. And camels in Europe are a dying species. When they finally return home, they become people again. Those who like to complain, those for whom nothing is ever completely right. It will be the same for me. But not yet. I will still be here, where there is nothing, and because of that – everything is alright.

“Come here” – he sends me the name of a village that few locals have heard of. You’ll like it – assures the person I once should have followed, but didn’t. I was used to people running after me. I arrived, and again I smell that same scent, like a lover’s; mixed with incense, ocean droplets, and the faces of good people. And it seems that everything is as it should be. After so much time – as it should be. He once knew me to lead me here. I don’t know if I got to know him as well.

I sit, watch the sun set into the horizon, and wait, maybe something will come out from there. Then, unlike now, I was just beginning to write the book, not exactly knowing what it would be about. Now, I’m finishing writing it, and I finally understand what all those years were about.

I wait. But this time, waiting doesn’t hurt anymore. This time, nothing depends on me anymore. It’s a very good feeling to have said everything you have to say. When you give all possible tools to a person and the sky – you can calm down. Nothing depends on you anymore. All you have to do is watch the sunsets and wait – something will definitely appear from beyond the horizon.

I talk to a friend and hear her smile as she listens.

Your voice is full of flowers.

How long has it been since I’ve heard such a beautiful response.

And if your words lay on your body, would you be beautiful?

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